In The Court Of The King
by hooded mage
Summary: Set after Fable 3. After tragedy strikes Driftwood a messenger comes delivering a letter from the King and one boy takes up the offer. I fail at writing summaries.


A/N I do not own fable 3 or any other fable games. Please reveiw, your comments make me very happy regardless of what you put.

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The people of Driftwood were singing, clapping and dancing around the warm, orange bonfire that burned in the centre of the first island. The dresses and skirts of the women glowed hundreds of different colours in the light of the flame. Men danced amongst the women, dressed in dark trousers and earthy coloured shirts made of varying amounts of cloth, others were devoied of shirts all together. Every person wore a mask that covered there eyes, each one made out of something that grew such as flowers, leaves or bark. The fashion of Driftwood had improved since the current king was crowned. They had abandoned the straw hats and dungerees for a more modern look of seperate lower and upper garments made of wool, cloth, leather and silk rather than pond weed. It didn't matter how normal and natural they thought they were The people of Driftwood were far too under-dressed for the sophisticated people of Millfields, Bowerstone, Brightwall and pretty much everywhere else. This party was unlike Bowerstone parties in almost every way. Instead of a great hall there was the trees. Instead of the slow dronning of brass there were fiddles and violins. The women were so much more relaxed and the men so much more rugged. Because there was no rich food and because every man had to do some physical labour there were no round-bellied nobles or podgy baronesses but well toned women and muscley men.

Orion sat on the grass near the dancers with a bottle of beer in his hand. He was wearing a pair of black trousers with a crimson sash as a belt, a black, elbow length shirt with another loose crimson sash at the waist and a dark brown leather hood, the shirt had a v-neck that ended at the top of his abdomen. His mask was made out of white birch bark with silver birch leaves on it, the shape of it was very much like a highway mans mask. He had black, scruffy hair to the middle of his neck. He had turned seventeen last week and wanted to make the most of it. That night was Nocte Passio (the night of passion) and that was the night where everything could be forgotten in a night of love. The tradition was to pick somebody random to spend the night with but now people usualy go with their spouses or partners or if single, someone they have their eye on. Being a good looking lad Orion was attracting some attention and not all of it from the fairer sex. He only had an eye for one girl though and that was Lydia, a pretty brunett girl of eighteen summers. They had decided to wait until they were married for anything physical and had settled themselves with just kissing. She came over and sat down next to him. She was in a light dress of pale lavender and her mask was made of orchids. She too had a bottle of beer. ''What a night. ''She said, looking up at the sparks flying from the bonfire. ''I know, everyone just seems so relaxed and peaceful.'' Replied Orion.

''In a few hours they will be retiring to their caravans and then it won't be so peaceful.'' Orion turned to look at her with, what she liked to call, that look on his face. ''What? It's true!'' She laughed. At the other side of the fire a wizened old man stood on a pedestal and tapped the edge of it with his cane for silence. ''I hope you have enjoyed the evening and the dance, and the booze of course!'' he said in a croaky voice, ''It is late and we have ran out of wood to fuel the fire so I suggest you all head back to your wagons ladened with as many bottles of alcohol as you can carry. Go on, chop chop!'' Everyone stood up and took the hands of their partners. ''Oh come on just this one night. I can't wait to see your big muscles and feel your powerful thrusts.'' Lydia said seductively. '''Lydia! You know how I was brought up. No sex before marraige!''

''Fine, but we better get married soon.'' She said and stormed off. _Stupid idiot. Why can't he just sleep with me? Aren't I good enough for him? Maybe he doesn't like me. Maybe he doesn't like women at all! Yeah that must be it. I mean, who can resist me apart from someone who likes men?. _She thought angrily as she stomped to her caravan.

The inside of Orion's caravan was decorated with a large blue rug, a small wooden bed with emerald green blankets, a copper stove and a table with a single worn chair. Book shelves surrounded the walls apart from where the door,window and stove was. The table was covered with all sorts of books and potions. The covers of some were: _Will Using For The Experienced_ and _The Advanced Course Of Spells._ The potions were to heal wounds and summon creatures and even to summon creatures that heal wounds to name a few. Yes Orion was a wizard. He knew everything he possibly could about Will but it was the actual casting that was the problem. His Majesty The King Of Albion could cast extremely powerful spells because of his gauntlets. As there is only one known set of gauntlets wich is owned by the king the other will users are at a disadvantage. Over the centuries the Hero blood had got more and more dilute and the powers had got weaker and weaker until the last true Hero was the current kings father. Without his gauntlets the king wouldn't be able to cast half as flashy fireballs. Many Will Users go through their whole lives without knowing if they have powers. This is because you need an experience that invokes very powerful emotions to unlock the Will. Orion almost drowned when he was seven but managed to magicaly propel himself from the water. From then on he made it his mission to learn all spells no matter how weak they were. There are about one thousand will users in Albion. Out of six and a half million that is about a one hundreth of a percent of the population. Orion soon found out that the spells the king uses are not the only ones around. For starters it doesn't have to be ice storm, you can control simple, basic water along with plants, animals, minds and just about anything. Also you can summon so much more than blades and beetles, like guns or hammers. One of the books Orion had found in Bowerstone Market gave instructions on how to make a magic staff like the ones the hobbes have.

He slumped down on his bed, pulling his mask off and lighting the stove with a flick of his wrist. He was thinking about Lydia's reaction to his rejection and realised how venomous her words were. Hopefuly she would see sense soon. He looked around and saw what a mess his caravan was. He got up and started piling books onto the shelves. It took about an hour before he was satisfied. He was just about to collapse on his bed again when sharp, piercing screams filled the island. He rushed outside to the sight of a woman screaming and pointing to the mainland. Orion looked over and realed back at what he saw. Twenty thin shapes were running from the woods to the beach where some people were clustered around a fire. The shapes came up to them and pulling out swords and pistols began to slaughter men, women and children alike. By the time they were finished people had sprung into action and with a clever invention of strings and pullies had pulled the path ways onto the island. In the light of the fire Orion could see what the creatures were. Sand Furies. They must be the ones that escaped from Reaver's mansion last year. Acording to all the stories they have a secret temple in Aurora dedicated to debauchery. They turned away from the island to look at a caravan near them that was gently rocking. As one they turned and ran towards it, trying to break down the door. Two people ran screaming to the window. Their naked forms slamming against it. One of them stopped and looked straight at Orion. It was Lydia, naked in a rocking caravan with one of those 'all brawn but no brain' guys called Marcus. The last thing Orion saw of her before the Sand Furies burst in was a look of smugness on her face. Her last act was one of deceit and treachery. The Furies walked out with blood on their swords. No one on the island could comprehend what had just happened. They had only just got over the shock when the Sand Furies started to cartwheel over the water towards them. Some people already had guns and started to shoot them but to little affect. Four men shot the same fury and a great arch of blood spurted out from it's chest before it splashed face down into the water. They reached the island and Orion shot a bolt of lightning at the nearest one. It wasn't enough to kill it but the spell did stun the pile of rags for a few seconds. At once the Furies stopped and started clicking excitedly to eachother while gazing at Orion. Most of them went back to trying to slaughter the Driftwooders but six of them advanced to Orion and ripped off their face masks. Underneath was an almost human face but with bright yellow cat eyes and cat like teeth. A blue aura seemed to grow around them as they came closer and closer. Orion was frozen with fear and he couldn't even blink as they reached him. In such a close vacinity Orion could see that all of them were female. The closest grabbed Orion by his arm and planted it's mouth on his neck. The second and third grasped their mouths onto his arms so he could barely move a muscle. It was the most pleasureable thing he had ever experienced. It felt forbiden and unlawful, there was also the pain of the teeth sinking into him that merely intensified the experience. He barely noticed when two more ripped off his shirt and clamped onto his chest. Orion opened his eyes and looked at the last one and knew something bad would happen if it managed to bite him. The Fury was inches away from his body when gunshots rang out. The Fury keeled over dead closely followed by it's friends on Orion and the rest of the pack who were still fighting the Driftwooders. He looked up and saw the inhabitants of the second island pointing guns at the Furies. The leader saluted Orion who smiled back and promptly collapsed.


End file.
